Writing about the lowest place can start to feel a little masochistic after a while. All these topics about sacrifice, turning the other cheek, humility, silence. I look back on the posts, and I worry that I sound like a flagellant.
But I’d be the first to admit: I’m not looking for the lowest place out of some pure, self-sacrificing motive. Jesus says to sit at the lowest place at the banquet so that the host will come and ask you to rise higher. Humble yourself before the Lord, and he will exalt you. If you lose your life for Jesus’ sake, you’re really saving it in the long run. It’s not that different from self-preservation, really, it’s just playing the long game.
Because the goal is freedom! The goal is life and love and abundance! The goal is everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s just a question of HOW to get there. WHICH ROUTE to take: The one going up? Or the one going down? There’s only one way to the treasure.
The way up says: let’s make my life better. Let’s find the best job I can, one that will make me happy. Let’s work out issues in my relationships so I can interact with my friends and family in a healthy way. Let’s find a good work-life balance, and exercise and eat a clean diet so I can live well.
It all sounds great. The only problem with the way up is: if there are any setbacks, I can’t be happy.
I’m doing after school tutoring once a week. And I enjoy it. The kids I work with are great, and I choose curriculum that I like. But I ask myself every week: “What am I doing? Am I making a difference? Is this worth the time spent? Couldn’t I get out and find something I enjoy even more?”
Whenever I ask the question, “Could I be enjoying myself more,” it’s always downhill from there. Because all of a sudden, the amount I’m enjoying myself now is not enough. And I start thinking about all the different careers that I could have if I put my mind to it, and all the difference I could make and how it would be better money and more fun…
That’s the trap of the upward trajectory: you’re not actually happy until you’ve ARRIVED.
And it’s the smallest things, too, that keep you from arriving. “Everything in my life is great right now, except I just don’t like this tutoring job.” Or: “Yeah, I’m totally happy. I just wish my kid would eat more vegetables.” It’s like I can’t just let go and BE, because there’s this one thing that isn’t exactly the way I want it.
But what about the way down? Is happiness possible in the lowest place? Auden thinks so. Here, from one of my favorites:
Beloved, we are always in the wrong,
Handling so clumsily our stupid lives,
Suffering too little or too long,
Too careful even in our selfish loves:
The decorative manias we obey
Die in grimaces round us every day,
Yet through their tohu-bohu comes a voice
Which utters an absurd command–Rejoice.
– “In Sickness and in Health,” W. H. Auden
I hate being wrong. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Being wrong, even about something small, is one of those things that niggles at my brain. I have this crazy paranoia sometimes: “Well, everything seems good now. But at any moment, I could find out that I’m doing something terribly wrong, and I didn’t even know.” That seems like one of the worst things ever to me, to have it suddenly revealed that, in spite of all my efforts, in spite of all my best intentions, while I was completely oblivious to it: I was wrong.
That’s why this poem is so freeing to me. Auden captures something beautiful here: “For all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God.” I’m ALWAYS in the wrong! Even when I’m at my most “right,” I’m wrong! Being wrong is not some bombshell waiting to drop on me when I’m least suspecting it. Being wrong starts at Point A, ends at Point B, and includes all the distance in between.
Wrong, clumsy, stupid, self-absorbed, playing the martyr, cautious, neurotic: now, rejoice!
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” (Rom. 3:23). The beauty of the lowest place is: joy starts now. I’m not waiting to get this one thing in order, and then everything will be perfect and I will be satisfied and happy. Instead, life’s a mess. I’m an explosion. There’s nowhere to go from here. Let’s sit in the pile of s*** and party–because I’m justified. I’m redeemed.
And once I know how to rejoice in the lowest place, then what could possibly stop my joy? Nothing!
The Lowest Place 